


Stupid in Like

by Mandibles



Category: Adventure Time, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys Kissing, Dating, Finn!Stiles, Fire, Fire is fairly prevalent here, Flame Prince!Jackson, Jake!Scott, M/M, Princess Bubblegum!Lydia, Pure Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandibles/pseuds/Mandibles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dating Flame Prince Jackson is definitely not what Stiles anticipated, but that doesn't mean it's <i>bad</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid in Like

**Author's Note:**

> The second thing I wanted to write for my birthday! And, just throwing it out there, BMO!Isaac. Let it sink in.

Dating Flame Prince Jackson is definitely not what Stiles anticipated. It’s nowhere near the doom and hellfire Scott had sketched out for him—which was kind of a strange move on Scott’s part, but, then, “I just don’t want you to get cooked, dude.” Stiles was always the more adventurous one; still, if anything, Scott was loyal, his best bro. It’s not bad, though, things between him and Jackson; in fact, they’re great. Totally fucking awesome, actually.

Jackson’s not really the rampaging, fiery death that he paints himself out to be. He’s just this confused, insecure kid who can’t tell where he stands—or wants to—on the whole good and evil bit.

It’s weird, like really weird, but Stiles thinks that’s what makes him like Jackson. He likes how this terrifying, destructive person who burns everything he touches to ash is also the person who lies beside Stiles in the grass and points out constellations in the night sky with bright blue eyes. Stiles doesn’t catch a thing he says, though; he’s too distracted by the fact that Flame Prince is here with him, beautiful and relaxed and—and _happy_.

“And, that’s Orion, the Great Hunter,” Jackson says, tone betraying delight as he traces the shape of it in flame. “He was turned down by some girl he liked and was killed by a scorpion.”

Stiles nods, not really hearing the words. “Uh huh.”

“The gods pitied him so they put him up in the sky.”

“Right.”

“And, there’s one of Orion’s dogs over there, Canis Major.”

“Wow.”

“It has the brightest star in it, actually. Sirius!”

“Dude.”

“Yeah.” Jackson drops his arm to rest across his stomach. A rare smile, a blush finds his face and Stiles’ heartbeat skyrockets. “You know,” he says quietly, twisting a finger in his shirt, “Sometimes I wish that I could be a star. I mean, they’re just balls of gas and fire, right? I could do that. I _do_ do that. I—”

“Uh huh.”

Jackson’s mouth snaps shut and he shoots Stiles a sharp glare. Grass sizzles between them and Stiles squawks and flails at the burning stab to his side. “Have you even been _listening_ to me?” Jackson hisses.

“Wha? Pff, of course, totally! You—You were just talking about gas, right? You know, Scott—” Stiles squeaks as fire lashes at him.

“I’m going to _kill_ you,” puffs Jackson, pushing to his feet in a furious billow of heat and smoke.

It takes the stinging burn to his rib to remind Stiles why he shouldn’t grab for Jackson’s retreating back, his flaming steps leaving dirt and ash. “Wait, wait! I—I think you’d make a beautiful star!”

Jackson freezes mid-step and, just like that, the fire dies down. When he finally looks back at Stiles, a dark blush burns his yellow cheeks. “You—Do you really think so?”

“Yeah!” Stiles scrambles to his feet, trips over his backpack on the ground in his haste to close the space between them. “Yeah, you’re—you’d be the brightest one, too, I think. Brighter than that serious star.”

A pleased smile spreads Jackson’s lips as he turns back to Stiles. The flames return, climb higher, but for a different reason now. “I could be your star,” Jackson says mindlessly, his hands flying to his mouth the second the words escape. There’s only his wide, blue eyes and the red gem at his forehead, both glittering in the flickering light.

“Really? Mine?” Stiles presses before Jackson can take the words back.

Jackson nods, hands dropping. “And, I’d be a trillion times better than some shitty Dog Star or—or even the North Star,” he declares, his usual haughtiness creeping into his excitement. “I’d direct you wherever you needed to go. You wouldn’t even have to tell me; I’d just know.”

“I’d still ask, though. Just so I could talk to you,” says Stiles with a grin. Then, he pauses. “I’d miss you like crazy though,” he realizes.

Jackson’s blush spreads to the tips of his pointed ears. “But—But people would like me, you think? People like stars. I mean, trust me, I don’t mind being feared at all—fuck them—but . . .” He wraps his arms around himself. “I wouldn’t mind some people liking me.”

“People like you!” Stiles blurts, but at Jackson’s blank stare amends, “Well, _I_ like you. Like, a lot. I like you so much my like for you is like the like of a million billion trillion flambits.” He smiles crookedly and Jackson rolls his eyes.

“That’s dumb. You’re dumb,” Jackson says even as he steps closer, honestly _beaming_.

They’re so close now that Stiles sweats profusely, his shirt damp with it. The sweat burns his eyes, but he forces them open so he can map every inch of the Flame Prince’s face, every flicker of fire. He considers taking off his hat, even reaches up to rid of it, then Jackson’s there, exhaling something that makes Stiles choke and fight off a cough.

“Wait,” Jackson murmurs, their lips a hairsbreadth apart. “Where’s the—”

The kissing stone, the one they use to exchange, you know, kisses and things like that since that time Jackson nearly destroyed the planet from the inside out. But, it’s in Stiles’ backpack in the grass behind him which is too far for him to even consider. Right now, he’s prickling with some crazy energy and he’s eager to take the risk, despite Scott and Lydia’s warning voices in the back of his mind.

Because Stiles is stupid in lo— _like_.

“Let’s just—like this,” he says before taking the plunge.

The kiss burns hotter than anything and it hurts, really hurts. Tears leak from his eyes at the pain and flecks hit Jackson’s cheeks in soft hisses, and Stiles knows that that hurts Jackson, too. But that’s okay. They’ve known from the very beginning that they would only hurt each other in the end. Their love isn’t perfect or the healthiest or the most sane, but it’s _theirs_ and that’s what matters.


End file.
